The feline of doom
by We're all living in Hetalia
Summary: Izaya wakes up in the body of a cat which he doesn't approve of. At all. As a matter of fact, he doesn't approve of random flights through Ikebukuro or being confined either. Watch as he tries to find his way out of this situation while learning (more or less) how to act like a real cat... and trolling whoever he can in the process, because that's Orihara Izaya for you! DISCONTNUED
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! :) A little heads-up before you start reading: the story is rated T for the moment, but it will go up to M very soon, mostly because of the language and VIOLENCE. Lots of violence. (And some gore later.)**

 **Also, if there was a category named action and screwed up humor, that would be just fitting for this story... enjoy! ^^**

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Izaya let out a muffled groan, clutching his side. As it turned out, one of his latest clients didn't react too well to his precious information landing in the hand of someone else, and long story short, decided that the man in the fur coat could do well with a few more holes in his body… From all the things Izaya expected that person to do, shooting him was not exactly something he would have bet on, but oh well. If Shinra was right, none of his organs were hit fatally, and a few weeks later he'd be "just as much of a jumpy bastard as he always was". The ruby eyed man made a bittersweet smirk. Well, weren't they such good friends?

Stirring a little in the sheets, he tried to twist his body a little to reach for his phone – the precious source of all kinds of rumors and information – but he realized just how bad of an idea it was when a searing pain shot through his side, making him yelp uncharacteristically.

"Well, that hurt a fucking lot" he growled after a few minutes… which seemed like eternity as he waited for the worst of the pain to fade away. Unfortunately it was still bordering unbearable, but Shinra was probably well aware of it, since the doctor left the room with the promise of bringing some extra strong painkillers. There was a slight chance (alright, more like a sixty percent chance) that his bespectacled friend would try to use him for some sort of sick experiment, but at this point Izaya would gladly have drunk a goddamn potion turning him into an elephant if that meant that he could get rid of the pain. He was not weak at all; in fact his pain tolerance proved to be superior to most of the troublemakers roaming Ikebukuro, but those shots messed his insides up damn well and all he wanted was to have a clear head again, preferably one that wasn't filled with his own screams saying _stop it_! Being hit by a trashcan from across the street was a breeze compared to this…

The door finally creaked open after what seemed like decades and the informant gazed up to see… someone else standing before him.

"Huh?" he managed to say very intelligently. Realizing just how much it'd hurt his reputation to leave it at that, he continued with a fake smile "and who may you be?"

The man in the doorway looked like someone straight out of a bad horror movie with his white clothes and the scary-as-hell mask all over his face, strands of hair peeking out here and there.

"A doctor" he said curtly as he started walking towards Izaya. The informant was both intrigued by this strange human and somewhat tempted to get his hands on his beloved flick blade… too bad the trusty little weapon was stashed away in his fur coat, which at the moment wasn't quite in his reach.

The doctor closed the distance between them and raised a syringe in the air. Izaya suspiciously eyed the green liquid which looked nothing like legit medicine for him, before the sharp object suddenly disappeared from his sight and landed unexpectedly in his arm. On instinct he tried to pull away and fight his way out of the grasp that now held his arm, but the same unbearable pain came back, this time threefold and he was barely aware of what was happening anymore. The last thing he remembered was the swaying of the room right before he fell back on the sheet… and then everything went black.

A few images danced through his mind, although they all seemed to fade into darkness before he could have grasped them. Were they nightmares? Moments when he was actually awake, hallucinations or simply just memories? At this point it was hard to tell.

The next time he woke up, Izaya found himself surrounded by cold, grey metal. He was behind bars. Sure enough, it wasn't his first time waking up in… highly unlikely places, but being put behind bars? Seriously? Just who was the goddamn idiot who decided that it was a good idea to put Orihara Izaya in a ca- wait, what?!

As his vision cleared, it became obvious that the metal bars around him were part of a cage that most likely held him captive. Wait… how did he get there? Who was so damn creative (and on a side note, quite sneaky) to get him there in the first place? Izaya was an expert at avoiding physical injury, his mind was twisted beyond recognition, so no amount of hypnosis could have had an effect on him… and as for drugs, having messed with many people's drinks before, the informant had a very good idea of what to avoid himself. The question still remained. How did he get there… and where was he?

Raising his head and turning around a bit, he saw a slightly similar room to Shinra's lab… except that in this case, the equipment was irrationally oversized, giving an impression of an operation room for giants rather than for human beings. And on a side note, why was there so much light? He tried blinking a few times, but that didn't lead anywhere; most of the room seemed like a color-drenched blur with way too much light for his liking. Something was dead wrong and Izaya didn't like it one bit.

The edges of the cage were blurry, but some of the equipment Shinra would use seemed perfectly clear in the distance, confusing the informant even more. Just what happened to his eyesight? Staring at his laptop screen day and night probably had a side effect, but to this extent? Again, it was fishy, but something told him that no matter how much he would have preferred this to be a dream, he was in fact wide awake. To the point that when he leaned forward, he hit his head accidentally on the closest metal bar and bounced right back. Now _that_ hurt. Hissing in irritation (wait, since when did he make such ridiculous noises?!) he got back on his feet… and two more feet. Okay, wait, something was definitely wrong. Glancing down to see just how on earth he had ended up on all fours, he caught sight of something dark and...

 _What the hell_ , he wanted to say in surprise, but only a screech-like sound escaped his throat at the sight of the dark, furry looking things.

Being the calm and collected individual that he was, Izaya forced himself to concentrate and analyze the situation. He thought of all the recent clients and their possible contacts who could have potentially owned a place like that as well as all the drugs which had a similar effect on someone's sight. His mind was still racing with all these thoughts when the door creaked and he immediately turned his head in that direction. Within seconds a tall figure appeared whom Izaya recognized as…

Oh shit, he thought at the sight of the masked man. While normally his brain would have made the connection between that strange liquid and his current condition immediately, at the moment the first thing taking control over his body was adrenaline. This was the kind or flee or fight effect that he had learned to control over the years… although this time it seemed to come back ten times stronger than before.

The man walked up calmly to the cage where Izaya was kept and as his paws ( _oh, god, why?!_ ) moved backwards on their own accord, he became painfully aware of just how little space he had in there.

"Finally, you're awake" the doctor hummed in an amused tone, as if Izaya's current situation was the most amusing thing for him in the entire world. In fact, it probably was.

"Then let's see how good the serum worked!" he said in a tone that promised nothing but suffering for his "patient". Izaya felt his heart beating faster by the moment and the urge to run or slice something became almost too strong to bear. All of his muscles flexed, ready to either make a dash for any kind of exit or to attack the first thing in sight, even though they seemed to be in all the wrong places.

The man in the white robe unlocked the cage and opened the closest side to reach in for Izaya. His hands were covered in gloves that would probably withstand being soaked even in the strongest mixes of acid; something that claws didn't have a single chance against.

If someone asked Izaya what happened next, he would not have told it. Not because he didn't want to, but for the reason that his mind seemed to switch off and his instincts took over almost completely. He could only faintly recall dangling from a high place, moving frantically… and the slimy feeling of his paws as he slipped on the floor before making a dash to what seemed like a window.

The next thing he knew he was falling through the air, speeding towards grey concrete that would surely be the death of him. His mind seemed to clear a bit, but that barely did anything to keep him from breaking his neck down there. Izaya was well practiced in jumping from one building to another, landing safely from altitudes that anyone else would have called a suicide attempt, but this time was different. His body wasn't normal anymore, he couldn't get it to make the same moves and in the end he landed face-first in… something hard, but not quite as hard as concrete. His nose hurt like hell as he forced himself on his wobbly feet… four of them, because two simply didn't work and looked around. Or would have, had something not knocked him off balance and sent him flying… this time he indeed landed on concrete, falling hard on his side, which hurt even more than the head-dive into whatever cargo was under him before.

"Filthy cat" he heard a man grumbling, the one who oh-so-gently swiped him off of the dark blue bags a few seconds earlier. Clawing his eyes out suddenly seemed such a good idea... The adrenaline was still working, although it couldn't quite get his weak, and quite probably broken, body to move. Was his arm… um, whatever limb he got there, broken? It was hard to tell with the pain taking over his senses, just as it did before at Shinra's…

Shinra. Doctors. Experiment…

Izaya was on his feet in a second at that thought, and he made a dash for the closest thing to use as a shelter. It wasn't easy to find something like that though. A stray cat, especially one with blood trails on its fur, was not exactly welcome in the crowds of Ikebukuro, and those streets weren't made for pets anyway. He bumped into legs, shopping bags and briefcases more often than not, and some kids even thought it was a smart idea to kick him aside.

After what seemed like an eternity, he made his way into an alley. A very suspicious looking one at that, but at least it was empty for the moment. He went to lie next to a dirty cardboard box. Surely, the ground was dirty, and Orihara Izaya preferred to stay clean (in the physical sense, at least), but in his current situation that was one of the most insignificant issues. For starters, he had to calm down a bit and think. Running around aimlessly would probably only get him killed in the end.

Most of his body still hurt and it became more prominent when the adrenalin decreased in his system, but he tried his best to concentrate on his thoughts instead. After calming down a little, it didn't take too long to piece things together. The doctor took his chance to use Izaya for some weird-ass experiment which left him trapped in a not-so-human body. Two key questions went unanswered though; why did he do that, and how was Izaya supposed to regain his arms and feet? The human ones, of course.

From the corner of his eye he could see something moving slightly… and even felt a muscle working at the end of his spine… could that be...?

Well of course, he tried to roll his eyes, only for them not to move accordingly. The man from before did call him a cat, he was walking (or more like stumbling most of the time) on four paws, so it was just natural that the dark furry thing next to him was his tail, but it was still a bit hard to comprehend. That was something new for sure. He might as well have been thrilled to play around with his new body part, had he not been in such a predicament. Because who would want to stay stuck as a damn cat for the rest of their lives?

On a side note, fleeing from Shinra's place might have been a mistake. Shinra may or may not have known about this, but as for the other doctor, if he injected something powerful enough into Izaya to literally alter his whole genetic profile, then he was probably the one who could change him back into a human being as well… that is, if the masked man was intending to do that. But Izaya had a feeling that he could not be trusted…

Glancing downwards, he saw sticky, half-dried blood on his paws mixed with dirt. It was hard to remember anything between seeing the man walk in and Izaya jumping out the window, but his best bet was that he had managed to scratch the mad doctor pretty badly. That gave him a little sense of triumph; even in his current, less than favorable state he could do harm, and more importantly; fight for survival. Now, if only he hadn't been feeling like shit and could actually walk back home…

… or maybe not. He suddenly remembered that his front door opened with a special card, something he most definitely didn't have at the moment and would need an actual hand for anyway. The windows were perfectly burglar-proof, so there was literally no way for him to get in. While Namie had access to open the door, she usually made sure to stay as far away from Izaya's personal territory as possible, having had more than enough of the insufferable man during her working hours. He could wait until his secretary actually went there and then sneak in, but chances were, cats didn't live long enough for him to see that happen… The image of a mummified cat at his doorstep formed in his head at the thought. Yeah. This was not the best idea.

Whatever the case, he at least needed to test his physical state. Slowly rising to two feet, then putting some weight on the other two he tried to find his balance. He may have had luck back there in the lab, but it became obvious that moving like a cat was not all instinct; there were a lot of things he had yet to learn. Fortunately for him, diving sideways was not one of them. Hat it been, he would have been crushed by the TV falling out of a window… or by the following dark brown luggage.

Izaya scurried away from the falling objects with records speed, although his movements were far from the elegance most felines possessed. Hell, he was still wobbly on his tiny paws and his left side hurt a lot, but at least he dodged that thing falling from above. Without a warning, mind you, which the informant didn't quite appreciate at the moment. Humans were interesting creatures, he loved them from the bottom of his heart, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy when they hurled random things in his direction without giving him a heads up while he was… well, not himself.

Glancing up from what seemed like a safe distance for him, he saw a bottle of whiskey following the previous two objects, shattering on the floor and almost immediately filling Izaya's nose with the typical smell. As a cat, it was even more unbearable…

A loud yell was heard and to Izaya's mild surprise, this time a man followed. He was shoved out through the window by a very angry woman and landed on his butt next to the broken TV.

While the "lady" was cursing her husband at the top of her lungs, Izaya remembered a certain blonde who would throw objects and people around with the same rage; although he was much more powerful than an average human.

"-and take your shit with you!" she yelled, and soon enough clothes and further bottles of alcohol came raining on the man from the first story window. That was the moment Izaya decided that it was high time to leave. Turning around and running away from the scene, he soon found himself on another busy Ikebukuro street, although this one was a bit more tolerable than the first. People still looked at him with disgust from time to time and he could hear a middle aged man calling a certain service specialized in capturing runaway pets and strays…

A shiver ran down Izaya's spine at the thought of being put behind bars again. Like hell he was going to end up in a cage for the rest of his kitten life. He couldn't possibly gather any useful information there, not to mention messing with his precious humans…

He ran further, changing courses so that by the time the white van arrived with those idiots to catch him, he would not even be in the area.

Passing through various streets in an attempt to avoid large crowds, he ended up in a long one with mostly backdoors to the buildings which had their opening to some main street. This was one of the rare streets Izaya didn't know, but at least there was literally no one there, so he was safe until he came up with a plan. And boy, he needed a brilliant one to get out of this mess.

He sat down on the ground (damn, so cold!) and was about to restart his previous chain of thought when his nose caught the smell of something… heavenly. Too bad it was masked by the sound of something equally strong, but rotting. The combination of those two smells were driving him crazy; he never expected cats to have such an oversensitive smell. One was like… fish, maybe? Yes, definitely some kind of fish, while the other smelled awful. For a moment the thought of corpses being in the black plastic crossed his mind. While that was a really interesting idea, his stomach told him otherwise, reminding him of the fact that he hadn't eaten in a long while…

Curiosity (and hunger) getting the better of him, Izaya walked over to one of the black bags. By the time he realized that they were the typical bags for the trash, his claws were already stuck in the dark plastic and he had a hard time trying to pull them back. It was embarrassing to say the least; the infamous Orihara Izaya standing in an abandoned street, trapped by a damn trash bag. Just what he needed…

And just when he thought that it couldn't get much worse, the back door to the building opened to reveal a monstrous figure. Izaya had to keep reminding himself that it was him who grew smaller, and not the entire human race that suddenly turned into giants. Still, this one was quite big even with human standards… and very familiar.

"Hey" the deep voice rang in his sensitive ears, which he recognized immediately. His spirits lifted a bit at the thought of meeting a friend. Well… an acquaintance anyway. Maybe he could find a way to communicate and…

"Don't do that, you." For some reason the black Russian didn't seem pleased at his presence at all, and Izaya suddenly realized that getting Simon to communicate with him while he was literally nothing but a filthy cat would prove to be about as difficult as teaching Shizuo astrophysics.

A moment later he was lifted in the air, pieces of torn black plastic stuck in his claws and the next thing he knew he was soaring through the air; something he had had more than enough of for one day. He landed on his feet in the end, but not without difficulty. In fact he nearly lost his balance while trying to stay upright. Damn, flying was no fun when you were not surrounded by an airplane…

Even from afar he could hear the sushi chef muttering something about black cats bringing misfortune before the man went inside. Izaya was certainly not satisfied. He tried to remove the annoying pieces of plastic from his claws, but immediately found himself falling face first and hitting his nose – again. Thinking of whatever he could have done wrong this time, he realized the very simple nature of the problem; he should have sat down on his butt before trying to fix his front paws if he didn't want to hurt himself – again.

As he tried to remove the bits (and failed to do so), he sighed internally at how hard it was to be in that body. Cats were never interesting enough for him, humans held much more potential after all, so he barely knew anything about the feline kind. How was he supposed to move? Were claws the kind of things you extended and retracted, or maybe they were out all the time? What did cats eat? Fish sounded like a classical hit, but then again, Izaya loved fish even as a human, so it was hard to tell. Also, how did they communicate with humans? Meowing surely didn't do the trick, right? He was thinking of drawing things in the dust with his paws (in case he could free them anyway) or snatching a phone away and typing something on the touchscreen… there had to be a way.

He wasn't quite sure yet about who to contact, but Simon sounded like a good idea at first. The Russian might not have liked Izaya, but he was kind enough to help someone in trouble, or at least not make their suffering worse.

There was Shinra as well, but that would only work if the underground doctor wasn't involved in the experiment from the start. He needed to first find out whose side he was on.

As for Namie, that woman would probably slam her high heels right through his skull without a second thought if he as much as approached her. While she proved to be a very good assistant, that woman was also one of the cruelest human beings he had ever encountered.

His family as a whole was off limits, given that most of them would have laughed their ass off, had he told them about the situation. No way.

The Awakusu appreciated him as an informant and would have done a few favors for him, but he had a feeling that they would be more content to leave him this way where he couldn't cause much harm to anyone's plans. Too bad he was going to find a way to do that anyway, cat or not.

After what seemed like an eternity, Izaya managed to get the annoying black plastic bag pieces out of his paws and looked at them with wide eyes as the claws retracted. That was… a strange feeling. He wasn't even sure if that was an automatic mechanism or if it worked much like the way you move your arms and legs, without even thinking about it.

The grumbling of his stomach reminded him once again that it was time to eat something. Ikebukuro was not exactly a suburb where you can just sneak into someone's garden to grab something so he had to be really creative to get his han-, correction; _paws_ on something edible.

The more he looked at the back entrance of what must have been the Russia Sushi, the more he found himself yearning for fish. Simon didn't seem too eager to communicate with him anyway (what was that about bad luck again?) so the informant decided that he might as well take a risk. At that time of the day, Simon usually stood outside and handed out flyers to promote the restaurant. He could snatch something from the kitchen and then make a run for it.

Walking silently on his soft paws, he approached a small window that, judging by the smell, probably belonged to the kitchen. It was just a few inches above ground, the perfect opening for his current, small form. If only he could have actually felt where his body parts ended and began…

That thought came a little too late when he bumped his head into the window frame while trying to enter and stumbled into the building… landing butt-first in a bowl of wasabi. To say that he was surprised would have been an understatement. The same applied for Simon who came face to face with an equally puzzled looking cat. For a few seconds they were staring at each other incredulously, and then Simon grabbed the cat in a hold strong enough to earn painful mewls, before proceeding to throw the wasabi-covered feline out the window, sealing it shut shortly after.

Izaya was _slightly_ mortified. Because no way in hell was he completely losing grip of the situation, right? He was always the one in control, so that couldn't happen, right?

Well, who was he kidding, really? Izaya was sitting on the ground with a lost expression on his kitty face, his fur dirty, paws sticky from dried blood and his butt and most of his hind legs completely covered in wasabi. Just… great. Fucking perfect.

Ten minutes later people walking through the West Gate park looked in bewilderment at the strange half-green cat making a dash for the fountain and jumping around in the water with such intensity that it would have passed for a circus attraction. Especially since cats didn't like water to begin with...


	2. Chapter 2

Izaya stepped out of the water feeling ten times heavier than before. The original plush fur could take on more water than what he'd ever imagined so when he shook himself to get rid of it, the feline basically splashed it on everyone in a five feet radius, earning quite a few noises of surprise and strong disapproval from the people. And worst of all, his fur still remained wet. Just what was cat fur made of anyway? This was insane…

Dragging his still wet body on tired legs while listening to the steady grumbling of his stomach, Izaya felt miserable. What did he do to deserve this? Okay, if he thought about it, most of his acquaintances could have listed a dozen reasons why he should have seen something big coming, but that didn't make it any easier to cope with the fact that he was stuck in a damn cat body for the moment.

Suddenly his nose picked up a familiar scent. His ears perked up instinctively as he turned towards the source. A girl with two ponytails on each side of her head was looking down at him while munching on a few takoyaki balls. Hadn't he been so tired, Izaya would have tried to snatch the small paper plate from her hand to eat those, but as it was, he could only stare at her with a jealous glare.

Moments passed like this, Izaya glaring daggers at the lucky human who had food, and said human staring into space. He recognized her after a short while… this was the girl he had kidnapped some time ago… the one who made such an entertaining face before jumping off the top of a building. Good times… although he was quite sure that she would not give him any food, had she known his true identity. But then again, he had to remind himself that probably there wasn't a text painted on his forehead saying " _Hey, I'm Orihara Izaya_!".

The girl finally took notice of him and they locked eyes. Hers softened a little at the sight and she picked up one of the balls, holding it out tentatively in the air for the drenched cat to take. Izaya pondered for a moment. He was offered to do the most humiliating thing in his life (well, maybe the second, because what could top falling ass-first into a bowl of wasabi?). His stomach proved to be stronger than his pride though, and he bit into the ball, nearly choking on it while trying to swallow the thing. Okay, how on earth did cats eat without hands?!

"Are you okay?" she asked with genuine worry. Izaya wanted to say " _hell no_ " but for one, a half-eaten thing was blocking his airway, and for two; he could only meow or hiss, not exactly a perfect set of vocal skills to communicate with humans.

Izaya then did something that he knew he would not be proud of later; spat the thing on the ground (yeah, the dirty ground) and ate it bit by bit. It was better than suffocating from trying to swallow the entire takoyaki, but it was still the most repulsive thing he had done in his life as a cat… or ever, really. Where were those fancy gadgets from sci-fi movies that could wipe your memories oh-so-conveniently? He was in desperate need of one at the moment…

"I wonder where your owner is… if you have one" she said while looking at the dripping cat.

 _Now, that is a question even I couldn't answer_ , Izaya thought. _Besides, I don't need an owner, thank you very much. I need an antidote and that's it._

"Hm, what did you find?" a boy of her age asked after stopping next to her.

"It's a stray. I would take it home but…"

"But?"

"My dad is allergic to cats. He would never let me bring it into the house."

"I know. My little sister has the same thing. She was taken to the hospital two years ago, it was so bad…"

She glanced back at Izaya once more, and then placed the paper plate with the remaining two balls on the ground.

"That's all I can do" she muttered, to herself or the schoolboy, Izaya couldn't tell, but his mind was filled with something more important anyway. He had a golden chance to finally eat something and didn't want to waste it. Thinking back at it, he probably set a new Guinness record for no-hands takoyaki eating then and there, but that was really the least of his concerns. As humiliating as it was to gobble up something from the ground, his survival instincts got the better of him and soon the food was all gone. So was the girl from before. Izaya wondered what her reaction would be, had she known just whom she'd helped out…

Walking a little further down the street, Izaya spotted a flying car rising from one of the small alleyways… and someone who was probably the owner of it, following closely behind. Too bad cats couldn't sigh or snicker the way Izaya wanted to at the moment. Shizuo was quite something, wasn't he? That brute threw things across the street like it was the most natural thing to do… what an uncivilized beast, really.

The cat-turned informant continued his walk in an attempt to find a place to dry. His fur was still somewhat wet, and it felt uncomfortable. At some point though, his instincts told him to turn around… it was a good thing he did. Had he not, the German shepherd behind him would have bitten him in half. The dog tore himself free from its leash and chased after Izaya, who didn't even need to think of his next course of action; run for his life!

Paws hitting concrete every millisecond, the informant dashed through the street with the predator right after him. He might have had the fully functional body of a cat and its instincts as well as his own intelligence, but one thing was missing; experience. His new body was a mystery, and not tripping on his four feet was a task hard enough in itself. He definitely would have preferred to test his speed limit in a less hazardous way, but as it was, he needed to do his damnedest to get out alive because the dog behind him didn't seem like it only wanted to play…

Feeling every frantic heartbeat in his ear, Izaya turned into the closest street, trying his best not to fall and end up mauled to death by a dog as a result. That would have been a very painful and humiliating death as well, something absolutely unfitting for him.

The sounds of heavy paws hitting the ground were steadily growing closer and the informant found himself panicking at the thought of his pursuer catching up… and also very angry at his own weakness. He was a man known for control damn it, and this whole situation where he depended on others and couldn't even get his own body under his command completely, was simply wrong on so many levels…

He had taken at least ten turns and dashed through even more streets with the sole intention of getting rid of the canine following him. Unfortunately it was a very persistent one and Izaya was reminded for a moment of someone equally determined to send him to the otherworld… except he could outsmart and outmaneuver Shizuo in multiple ways. This time though, he felt chained, or more like he was still inside that damn cage…

To his horror, with every turn he felt his muscles slowly getting tired from the chase, about to abandon him…

 _No, that's not going to happen_ , he thought while looking for something to make use of. For a while he'd been pondering about jumping on something high, a first story balcony maybe, that the dog couldn't reach. But there was this nagging fact that he had never tested that before. If he failed (which was a realistic possibility, given his clumsiness so far) then he would be completely defenseless when the dog caught up to him. Another option was to run and hope that the German shepherd would finally lose interest, but since they'd been running like that for god knows how long, it was unlikely. Izaya would probably have collapsed in the end, again; mauled by a filthy dog. There was one more option though, and in spite of him having some experience in that field as a cat already, it still sounded like an outright suicide attempt.

In the middle of a random street Izaya stopped, regretting his choice already as he heard his pursuer getting closer and closer… then he turned around to face the beast and clawed at its nose as hard as he could. Crimson blood stuck to his paws for the second time that day, and even if he was pushed backwards from the collision with his opponent, the dog was forced to back down a bit as well. It only took a second for it to decide that it would not back down from a little scratch and Izaya soon found himself facing an even more furious canine.

 _I've always hated dogs_ , he though as he skidded to the side to avoid strong fangs aiming at his neck. Those jaws seemed strong enough to snap any of his bones in half. Avoiding two more deadly bites, he moved to the other side of the dog, landing a long scratch on its belly. The sound the shepherd made told Izaya that it was a success but he couldn't rejoice for too long; before he could have moved aside completely, the canine attempted to bite him once more. It didn't succeed in biting his front paw off since he moved sideways to dodge, but the pain and the blood trickling down shortly after signaled that he got hurt anyway. Skidding to the side, he tried to find his balance yet again and avoid the next few attempts of his opponent at snapping him in half, all the while looking for an opportunity to strike back. Because as stupid as it sounded, the only way to get out alive was to beat his much bigger and stronger opponent.

Ignoring the pain from his wound, the next time the dog leashed out, Izaya lifted his left paw and embedded it right in the dog's right eye. Had he been watching from the sidelines, he probably would have felt somewhat sorry for the pain it had to go through. Having his life on the stake, however, he didn't hesitate to add one more paw in an attempt to turn the dog's head into a bloody mess. Yes, going for the head was a risky choice; the sides and the belly were much softer, but with the way this dog moved, they were also much more out of reach. It wasn't like he actually had a choice.

The German shepherd took a step back, halting its attacks for a short while and Izaya did the same, needing to rest for at least a few seconds. Had he tried to attack at the moment, his already strained muscles would have surely given up on him. What would have been the point of fighting so far then?

His little body was shaking with exhaustion and he could only hope to land a critical hit to give him a chance to run away. Apparently leaving inches long wounds on its sides, mauling most of its face and stabbing its eye wasn't enough to deter the dog from snapping Izaya's neck. He had to give it some credit for that…

Suddenly a door to their side opened and a woman with a dog on its leash stepped out to the street, unaware of the battle going on. From the looks of it, she was about to take her beloved pet for a walk. The German shepherd's nose immediately caught scent of his own kind, his focus shifting from the cat to the other dog for a few seconds.

Izaya wasn't sure if he'd get a chance like that distraction again, so he turned around and shot out at an unforeseen speed to finally leave the damn dog behind. One street came after the other and his heartbeat was so loud in his ears, that he probably would have missed the sounds of a carpet bombing in Tokyo. That was probably the reason he also missed the sound of a fridge landing a bit further… or the questionable substances flowing on the concrete from the damaged property. By the time he noticed that something had been wrong, it was already too late to avoid the slimy puddle of god-only-knows-what and he landed right in the middle it. His paws slipping on the thing, Izaya found himself literally spinning past the broken fridge, having a taste of what it might feel like being a pair of socks in the washing machine. The terrible spinning motion ended soon enough, but none too gently; Izaya found himself head-on colliding with something hard. And yes, it hurt a _lot_.

Izaya was feeling miserable. His vision was blurrier than ever, his head was pounding, his muscles were practically screaming and the teriyaki in his stomach seemed intent on coming back to the surface…

Feeling like a piece of crap, he raised his head to see just what had he managed to headbutt this time. His mind slowly registered a pair of black tailored pants, the end of a belt loosely hanging down, the edge of a back vest and a white dress shirt…

By the time he spotted the messy blond hair, Izaya knew that he was doomed. He had a fairly good chance of winning against the monster of Ikebukuro, but that was back in his own body. In his current state, he was really nothing more than a little bug that Shizuo could crush… much like those 'fleas' the blond would usually call him.

…and to think that he had been through so much shit only to be killed by the brute in the end! What was that, if not unfair? He gritted his teeth and let out a hissing noise (it was still bothering him how he couldn't express himself in any normal way in a cat's body) but it sounded miserable, even for him. Shizuo didn't even look at him though.

"Oh my…" he heard a mildly familiar voice. Turning his head slightly, Izaya spotted a man in a brown suit whom he had known as Tanaka, the boss of Shizuo… or something like that. The two appeared on the streets of Ikebukuro together a lot in the past years, so Izaya guessed as much. The man looked at him with an incredulous expression as if he had never seen a cat covered in slime and spinning through the street before. Well, on a second thought, he probably hadn't.

"Hm? What?" Shizuo asked bluntly, not really understanding what his superior was referring to. Tanaka suppressed a smile as he answered.

"Look down to your feet, Shizuo…"

The blonde did, only to see the dirtiest bundle of something ever resting on his shoes. Upon realizing that his special tailored pants got covered in the same mixture of blood, dirt, and whatever food Izaya had skid through all the way to this end of the street, the man groaned in irritation.

"Not again…! These clothes were from Kasuka, damn it!"

With that said, he stepped aside and tried to shake the slimy mixture off, without much result. Tanaka was torn between feeling anxious for whatever else might be flying in the next second, or to laugh at how childish his high school friend acted at the moment. He didn't have time for either though, as the man Shizuo had been aiming for with the fridge earlier made an attempt to run again. Much to his misfortune, the ex-bartender spotted him and hurled the closest object his way, which happened to be a large trash can.

Tom watched as their client got hit straight in the head by said object. It was filled with paper only, so it wasn't that heavy, but still enough to knock the man unconscious.

"Alright" Tanaka sighed, ignoring Shizuo's curses in the background "I'll wait until he wakes up and convince him in a little… less violent way to hand over the money. You can go now, Shizuo."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah" Tanaka nodded, thinking that it was best that he took over from there "it's been a long day for you already. Although…"

Shizuo was already walking away when he said that, so he turned around with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Yes?"

"That cat seems to be injured… maybe a doctor should take a look at it."

"Cat?" Shizuo asked, looking around for one, but not finding any. Finally his gaze settled upon the highly questionable thing that bumped into his leg earlier "Wait, is that supposed to be a cat?"

Before he could have answered, Tanaka sneezed twice in a row.

"Yes…" he said finally "definitely a cat… I'm allergic to them, as you can see."

"Ah, I see."

The blonde looked down at the so-called cat without much conviction. But if his senpai said it was one, who was he to question the man?

"Do you think you can take it to a vet on your way home? If it has a chip, they will be able to tell who its owner is, and they'll return it to them."

"Alright" Shizuo agreed; even though touching the slimy thing didn't sound too appealing, he owed too much to his colleague to refuse his requests.

"Gross" the blonde muttered as he looked at the unmoving animal on the ground. He couldn't even tell where the cat ended and the slime began. It was beyond recognition. Getting over his disgust, Shizuo reached to grab the creature and even managed to lift it about two feet above ground… when it slipped from his fingers and slammed into the ground accompanied by a sickening noise. The little one made a sound of utter dissatisfaction upon colliding with concrete… which Shizuo could sort of understand, after all.

The debt collector was not exactly proud of himself when he heard his superior sighing a little further down the street. Trying to come up with something even remotely useful, he looked around to see if there was an object he could use. The only thing within his reach (apart from the container for glass bottles, which sounded like a very bad idea) was a plastic bag idly floating by the wall. He grabbed the grey thing and picked up the cat, unceremoniously dropping it into the makeshift carrier.

"Alright, I'll leave then" he said politely to his slightly dumbfounded boss, and then proceeded to walk away.

The last thing Izaya remembered before blacking out was trying to (hopelessly) claw his way out of the stupid plastic bag, all the while cursing Shizuo in his mind. 

* * *

**Thank you all for following and commenting on the first chapter.**

 **I have recently realized that Izaya in fact knows Shinra's father and even talked to him personally in the relative present time of the story, but the informant not having seen Kishitani-sensei for long years is sort of an integral part of the plot that I have in mind, so please let this slide. I might change a few things here and there when necessary compared to the original series, but I'll try my best to at least keep the main cast in character to the best of my ablilites.**

 **With that being said, here's the next chapter. May I ask for your opinion about the rating at this point? I'm not quite sure whether it should be T or M...**


	3. Chapter 3

**(Don't let the relatively peaceful mood of this chapter fool you. This in _not_ your typical fluffy domestic-type fic. Both Izaya and Shizuo are in for a lot more than that... Just thought I'd let you know.)**

* * *

The average Ikebukuro citizen knew to steer clear of a certain blonde wearing a bartender suit under _any_ circumstances. Therefore it came naturally to give him even more space when he was making a scary face and muttering curses about ruined uniforms under his breath. Fortunately, that afternoon there wasn't anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with the fortissimo of the city, so he could make his way to the vet's building in relative peace, _relative_ being the key.

Shizuo was greeted by a young, curly haired woman at the reception desk whose eyes grew double their size upon realizing that the plastic bag actually contained something resembling an animal. There was the smallest movement that gave away the breathing motions of a living creature… yes, there was definitely a living creature in there. She was seriously tempted to call the animal welfare at that point; the only thing keeping her from doing so was that Shizuo didn't quite give off the vibe of someone deliberately torturing a pet.

"That" she said with an exasperated sigh while pointing at the bag "is _not_ a way to carry an animal, whatever it is. It's a wonder it didn't suffocate on the way here. How long has it been in there?"

Shizuo thought for a moment. How long had he been walking with the strangely silent package?

"Twenty minutes, maybe" he said, accompanied by a shrug. It was hard to tell…

The receptionist was about to say something terrible when the door across them opened to reveal the vet.

"Good afternoon!" he greeted Shizuo kindly, who nodded in return "you don't have an appointment, do you? I thought there would be no more patients today."

"No, it's… uh, kind of an emergency, I guess" the blond muttered. Really, he wasn't prepared for the conversation. Shizuo was fine with taking the package to the vet's since it was what Tom wanted him to do, but…

"Alright" the doctor nodded "then I suppose you have your pet in your car? Please bring it in so I can take a look at it."

Shizuo kept silent for a moment. He didn't have a car to begin with, so it was quite unlikely for him to bring anything from there.

"His pet is in the bag" the receptionist answered instead of him in a tone that caused Shizuo to turn a bit red from embarrassment. How else was he supposed to bring that slimy ball all the way there?! He couldn't just levitate the damn thing now, could he?!

"That's a joke, right?" the doctor asked flatly. Shizuo then proceeded to mutter a "not really" as he unceremoniously lifted the bag above the reception desk and turned the bag upside down. The cat (well, Tom called it a cat anyway) landed on the wooden surface with a thud accompanied by the panicked shriek of the woman.

 _Maybe I'm doing this wrong_ , Shizuo wondered. He'd never had a pet before and wasn't planning on keeping one... he would probably snap the poor thing in half by accident. Owning an animal for a few days (or weeks at best) only to crush it in one of his worse moments… well, that didn't seem to be a smart thing to do. But exactly because of his well-kept distance from pets, Shizuo didn't have the faintest idea of how to deal with them. Those two standing around him seemed to have drawn the exact same conclusion.

The vet took a deep breath before walking over to the now slimy desk and carefully picked up the unconscious cat. He walked inside the operation room, and not really wanting to stay in the same place as the fuming receptionist, Shizuo trailed behind. To say that he felt uncomfortable would have been an understatement as he positioned himself along the wall while the doctor placed the cat in something that looked like a bathtub. He watched silently as the man poured a shampoo-like substance on the messed up pet and slowly washed away the slime. He was nearly done with this when he first started talking.

"What happened to this poor thing?"

Shizuo shrugged yet again.

"No idea" he admitted, earning a groan from the otherwise cheerful vet.

"What kind of owner are you?"

"I'm n-"

"Take care of your pet, it's your responsibility" the older man lectured him while keeping his eyes on the unconscious animal.

"It's a misun-"

"Cats need love and care, and they can absolutely not be carried around in a bag like that! It's a wonder that this little fellow is still breathing."

Shizuo gave up at this point. He tried explaining that the cat wasn't even his, but anything he said so far only seemed to anger these people, and not wanting to lose his temper (that had dire consequences after all), the debt collector decided to stay silent and wait for the process to be over. He would pay for the service, and tell Tom later that the cat was identified and would soon be returned to its real owner. That sounded easy enough. Cats had microchips, right? When the doctor found it, Shizuo wouldn't have to explain himself anymore.

He casually sat on a nearby chair, glancing at the doctor every once in a while, mainly out of boredom. His mind was soon occupied with thoughts of such things as what he should buy the next time in the supermarket, or trying to remember the filming schedule of Kasuka. He hadn't met his little brother in a while, and the blonde felt like seeing him, even if just from a distance so that he wouldn't cause the actor any trouble with his temper.

By the time the doctor was done with cleaning up the poor creature completely, Shizuo had to admit that it actually started to look like a cat. Not that he cared, really; the sooner he got rid of it, the better. He just wanted to go home, sit on his sofa, smoke a few cigarettes… and maybe drink some milk afterwards. He was a simple man, after all. But most of the time even his simplest dreams didn't seem to come true.

"Several of the ribs are cracked, but not completely broken" the vet commented while tending to the still unconscious cat. Just for safety though, he injected a little sedative in its system so that it wouldn't wake up in the middle of the operation "there's a really deep wound on its left side and a gash on one of its front legs as well… are you telling me that you don't even know how your cat got those?"

"No… not a clue" Shizuo muttered finally. Ok, this was getting awkward. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, after all, who would want to be interrogated about a pet they didn't even own?

"And I suppose you have absolutely no idea of how it got covered in that disgusting mixture."

"Not really."

The man let out a deep sigh, the kind indicating that he was trying to keep calm. He obviously didn't take too well to someone not caring about their pet. In the end he stayed silent as he cleaned and slowly closed up the injury in Izaya's side and front leg. By this time Shizuo was staring into space, thinking of things like the next time he'd have to pay rent or have something in his apartment fixed. Luckily for him, most things were fine at the moment, but anything to take his mind off of the place he'd been sitting in was welcome, including reparation bills…

"Alright" the doctor said finally as he turned to Shizuo "your cat should be fine, just let it rest for a few weeks for the injuries to heal. Make sure that it has a balanced diet and doesn't pick on the wound on the front leg."

"Um, sorry, but I don't think I'll be doing that" he said, finally having had enough of making a fool out of himself.

"Excuse me?" the man's eyebrows rose questioningly.

"I'm not its actual owner, you see. I found this cat on the street not so long ago. I thought it was a stray, actually…"

"I've seen enough strays in my life, Mr. Heiwajima. This cat was kept relatively well before… whatever had happened to it. It was definitely not a street cat from the start."

"A friend of mine said that you can find its owner with that microchip thing…"

The doctor looked at him once again with that puzzled look.

"I've examined this cat in any way possible. There's no chip in its system."

This was Shizuo's turn to be surprised.

"But then… how will we find the owner? There surely must be a way…!"

The man sighed.

"Look, Mr. Heiwajima. Just accept that you've made a mistake and take better care of your pet from now on."

"No, you misunderstand, it's not-"

"Also" he added as he reached for a strange object that reminded Shizuo of torture devices "I'll put a microchip under the skin to make sure that your cat will be identified and returned to you next time instead of wandering around and getting injured."

Shizuo was never one to be afraid at the doctor's; having spent a large slice of his childhood at the hospital resulted in him getting used to virtually any medical device. There was also this fact that he didn't sense much pain anymore, so even when he was faced with a random sharp object, he simply didn't care. But this time as he saw the doctor approach a weak, defenseless creature with something that seemed pretty damn painful… it felt wrong somehow. Before he could have thought things through, Shizuo rushed over to the middle of the operation room and stood between the man and the unconscious feline.

"I think that's not necessary" he said with a nervous smile.

"Are you sure? This would make it much easier to find your pet. Also, it doesn't hurt, especially now that the sedatives are still working…"

"No, that's just… no. Anyway, thank you for your help until now. How much do I owe you?"

A few minutes and some nasty paperwork later Shizuo was walking home with a brand new cat carrier (courtesy of the receptionist who said that she either saw the blonde carrying the cat in that, or call the animal welfare) and a confused expression on his face. How did he get into this again?

By the time he reached his apartment, the debt collector decided that the smartest choice would be to call his boss; he was the one to send him to the vet in the first place. Putting the carrier in a random corner of his living room, Shizuo picked up his phone and dialed the number of Tom.

"Hey, Shizuo" the man greeted "did everything go well?"

The blonde grunted as he reached for his pack of cigarettes. He would need that very soon…

"Nah, not really. The cat doesn't have an owner. Well, not a chip at least. Any ideas how we're going to find out whose it is?"

There was silence on the other end of the line before his friend spoke up.

"Hm. Send me a picture of it, and I'll ask around in a few forums."

"Alright, I'll do that. But… who's going to take care of it until we find the owner? Because I'm not exactly the best choice, you know."

"Well, I'd say that I'll do it, but I'm allergic to them. Can you ask your friends, maybe?"

Shizuo sighed. The cat was trouble already… and he hadn't even tried to remove that disgusting thing from his pants… Now that was sure to piss him off later.

"Fine."

After dropping his cell phone on the sofa, he walked to the bathroom to change. Apart from the bartender suits he barely had anything in his closet so it was pretty easy to pick the simple white t-shirt, the comfortable grey hoodie and the matching jogging pants. The next thing to take care of was the stain on the black material…

"Gross" he muttered for himself before pouring some detergent on it. After several minutes of scrubbing, the sticky thing seemed to have disappeared, much to his relief. He had lost plenty of the original set thanks to idiots who thought that attacking him was a good idea… one of them was especially keen on slashing his body. Just thinking of the damn pest made his blood boil, and he let go of his pants so that he wouldn't tear it by accident. Yeah. Orihara Izaya had destroyed a lot more of those than what he was able to tolerate. They were from Kasuka after all… not to mention that the one ruining them was one of the prime reasons his life sucked to the extent it did. Because really, he would have had a much more peaceful life without the flea's constant plotting. All he wanted was to be left alone, and there that louse was, sending gangs after him since they were fifteen.

After having washed his pants once more thoroughly, he set them on the rail and left the bathroom. Upon entering his living room, Shizuo's gaze landed on the carrier resting in the corner. It was strange to think that he had just walked home with a pet that wasn't even his. Even as a child he'd never had one for a very good reason. Once Kasuka asked him to take care of his own cat for a little while, which he agreed to, because how could he refuse to ask one of his little brother's rare favors anyway, but that was different. The cat found itself a new temporary caretaker almost immediately, so Shizuo never got to know if he would have been able to take care of another creature apart from himself. A part of him somehow doubted it…

Led by curiosity, he walked over to the carrier and peeked through the grates. Behind them lay a curled up ball of something, its body rising and falling rhythmically. The pitch black fur looked soft, enough to make him want to reach out and touch it… but then he remembered how most animals (including catsl) used to run away from him ever since he was a little child.

"Whatever" he muttered and was about to stand up and leave when he remembered his promise to Tom. Picking up his phone from the sofa, he placed it close to the grates and made a photo of the cat. It was not a masterpiece, but probably enough for its owner to recognize their pet.

After sending the picture to his boss, Shizuo stood up and headed for the kitchen to make some instant noodles. His stomach had been grumbling for a while, and even if Tanaka would usually buy him dinner after a long day, this time he was left hungry thanks to the unusual complications involving a ball of fur.

While the water was boiling, Shizuo grabbed his cellphone once again and read through the contact list. There weren't many people in there to begin with, and most of them probably weren't suitable for keeping pets. For instance, he may have had the phone number of Mairu, but he knew better than to trust anything even remotely alive to that girl. She was a walking biohazard, and no one could convince him otherwise. He may or may not have been biased because she was an overenthusiastic fan of Kasuka and the little sister of the flea, but whatever… Shizuo just didn't trust her. The other twin didn't seem any less shady either.

Moving on, he came across the numbers of his previous bosses. The one whose car he had trashed… the one whose restaurant he had destroyed completely… and then there was the one whom he'd beaten up to the point where the man ended up in hospital for weeks. Those people were certainly not his best choices either…

After a couple minutes of pondering about his choices, the blonde felt a headache coming. Deciding that it was getting too late to call people anyway, he just started to eat the noodles which were soft enough by then and forget about his problems for a short while. Yeah. He'd deal with the cat the next day.

Afterwards he lit a cigarette, breathing in the familiar taste and smell, and in half an hour he was in bed, sleeping already. It had been a long day…

Izaya opened his eyes only to come into contact with what resembled an old sofa. Now, the brownish fabric would not have bothered him much, had he remembered having anything like that at home, or at least at Shinra's. But in fact this was the very first time he came across that design, meaning that he was in an unfamiliar territory. Had it been the issue of waking up somewhere odd only, the informant would have just kept calm and carried on analyzing. However even after several minutes of staring ahead, his sight was not returning to normal.

Wherever he was, it must have been dark… but at the same it just wasn't. Things were sort of visible, but without any actual depth that they would have normally had at night… strange. He could make out certain objects in the foreign apartment, but the lines were blurry and it felt like he was watching a color-drenched version movie on an awfully large television screen.

That, and he felt sleepy. So damn sleepy that before he could have even moved an inch, darkness engulfed him again, dragging him to the land of dreams whether he wanted to go or not.

The next time he woke up, everything hurt. There was literally no part of his body that didn't feel like it was being crushed or stabbed with a knife repeatedly, which was obviously not doing much to improve his mood. Glancing around and grunting in anger at his still terrible vision (what was with those goddamn many runrays anyway?!) he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. It looked like a human, but he had to make sure. Temporarily forgetting about his condition, Izaya made an attempt to stand up and walk over to the grates of his… cage? What the heck?! Not that shit again… Pushing the annoying thought aside for a moment, he fixed his eyes on the door where he saw a large shape disappearing just recently. But when he finally got his body to move, he was reminded of just how much pain he was in the moment he put weight on his paws.

 _Paws..._

Again, what did he do to deserve this?! His mind was much clearer than last night, but it still wasn't functioning as well as it used to, probably due to the effect of some drugs… or painkillers. Hopefully the latter.

Slowly his memories of the past 24 hours came back and the cat-turned informant felt the need to bang his head against the cat carrier in frustration. The only thing keeping him from doing just that was the immense pain radiating from his wounds and bruises, effectively immobilizing him.

 _God damn it_ , he thought, face-palming mentally. _From all the things that could have happened to me, I ended up running into that beast. As much as it sucks to have such a weak body… at least he was unable to recognize me, right? Otherwise I'd probably be dead by now. Once I find a way to change back though, I'll make sure that Shizu-chan never finds out that it was me… and if he does by chance, he's so getting his throat sliced…_

And then a sudden thought hit him.

 _Hang on for a second… sure, it hurts like hell, but I'm still alive. Which means that after I blacked out, someone must have saved me from the brute. It would have been a pretty dumb way to go anyway if he just stepped on me or something like that. I most definitely prefer my guts to stay inside of me, thank you very much._

Moving around a little bit against his body's protests and hissing at the pain, he realized that someone must have taken care of his injuries… probably a professional, from the looks of it. So if a vet had treated him, then someone must have adopted him, right? The thought was ridiculous… Izaya was no one's property after all, cat or not, but it still sounded very likely at the moment.

 _I wonder what kind of human it will be_ , he mused, deciding that if he wasn't able to move freely just yet, he might as well observe the person who decided to keep him. That way the informant could have some fun while recovering…

 _Come, show yourself, my dear human_ , he cooed mentally, waiting for the person to appear. This might as well have been fun after all…

And then suddenly a tall figure entered the living room with a large bag of trash in his hands, making his way to the front door without as much as glancing at Izaya. Had he looked down though, he would have seen a pitch black feline dropping his jaw and on the brink of a mental breakdown.

 _No… just. No. What the hell?!_

Normally Izaya resented this cat body for not giving him the chance to talk. This time however, he would have been at a loss of words anyway. From all the people in Ikebukuro whose place he could have landed at… why did it have to be _that one_?! Why?!

Izaya saw from the corner of his eyes that Shizuo left the apartment, probably to take the trash out, but that did little to calm his nerves. He was confined to a cage in the living room of the beast.

 _God damn it, I said **human** , not **monster**!_


End file.
